Each day he posted the times when he would be saying his prayers. Alexander Burke, fairly new to the team, led the way upstairs to Kazimi’s third-story bedroom. Burke was a lanky man, with corn-colored hair and gray eyes. He was followed by Maria Rodriguez, then Kazimi, and finally Timothy Vaill. Vaill and Rodriguez, always professional but likeable and open, were husband and wife. Mocha-skinned and kinetic, Rodriguez was a pert five foot two, which was to say a foot or so shorter than Vaill, a solidly built, laconic fellow, who was constantly squeezing handgrips or doing exercises using a set of adjustable dumbbells.

“Going back to work after you pray?” Burke asked as they climbed the narrow wooden staircase leading up to the top floor.

Vaill and Rodriguez grinned.

“Dr. Kaz always goes back to work,” Vaill said.

Burke smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I should have figured that. Don’t you ever get out, Dr. Kaz?”

“My work is too crucial to leave it for any extended length of time,” Kazimi said.

“How about women? Do you ever want to—you know—date? I mean, you’ve been cooped up here for a long time now.”

Kazimi stopped climbing. His expression was hard.

“I am a Muslim first and an American second,” he said, allowing his withering look to linger. “My beliefs prohibit carnal pleasure outside of marriage. And Agent Burke, I would prefer if we keep our conversations professional.”

“The new boy’s learning,” Rodriguez said with a chuckle.

Burke held up his hands.

“My bad. Just getting the hang of things, I guess.” At the top of the stairs, he opened Kazimi’s bedroom door. “Just a quick check before we leave you alone, Dr. Kaz.”

“No need to explain. I’ve been through this so many times before, that it is routine.”

With the exception of a twin mattress, end table with a digital alarm clock, goose-neck lamp, copy of the Koran and several microbiology journals on it, and a prayer rug rolled up in a corner, the master bedroom was virtually bare. There were no pictures, no plants, nothing to warm the space. This was where Ahmed Kazimi slept and prayed and nothing more. It took only a minute for Burke to check the bathroom and closet, and beneath the bed, and to wave him up the final few stairs. Rodriguez and Vaill followed but stopped in the doorway.

Usually, as soon as the room was deemed safe, the detail retreated to the living area on the second floor. This time, though, Burke remained by the edge of the window, looking down below.

“Dr. Kaz,” he asked, “is that truck frequently parked in the alley?” Burke’s voice was tinged with concern.

Rodriguez and Vaill took several steps into the room.